


we're not friends (nor have we ever been)

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cuddling, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, The X Factor Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 17:57:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6125194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you still want to be friends when this is over?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	we're not friends (nor have we ever been)

**Author's Note:**

> There aren't nearly enough txf era fics in this world so I thought I'd remedy that. This is super short but I hope you like it nonetheless. Title from the infamous Friends by Ed Sheeran.

“C’mon, love, I’m getting cold here.” Louis groans, gesturing to the empty space in the bed as he lifts up the covers to allow Harry to shuffle in next to him. The bunk is too small and Harry’s feet are poking out at the end of it, but they sort of do this, now. They hadn’t planned it, but being on the X Factor is pretty tough on Harry (he’s only sixteen, for Christ’s sake), and he gets homesick a lot and finds it easier to sleep when Louis is curled around him. It remains unspoken amongst the other boys, probably because Harry and Louis are a package deal, the best friend duo who may or may not be something more, and so they share a bed and pretty much everything else for the ten weeks they’re living in the house.

Harry tucks his head under Louis’ chin, and the older boy presses his lips into Harry’s curls. Harry can’t help but hum softly, content in Louis’ arms. They are warm against each other, legs tangled under the sheets, and the room is quiet save for their synchronised breathing.

“Do you think we can do it?” Harry’s sleep ridden voice breaks the silence.

Louis frowns and pulls Harry even closer, snaking an arm around the younger boy’s waist. “Do what?”

“Do you think we can win, y’know, me and you and the boys? We have a shot, right?” 

Louis honestly doesn’t know. Of course, he _hopes_ that they have a chance at winning, because the band is actually pretty brilliant if he does say so himself, and it’s his dream. But the competition is tough and he doesn’t want to set Harry’s expectations too high.

“I think,” he starts, shifting slightly so he’s facing Harry. “whether we come first or not, we’re still winners.”

Harry scoffs and prods Louis’ side. “That’s bullshit.”

Louis laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners, but then his face softens as he continues. “I’m serious. Win or lose, it doesn’t matter, because it’s been the best experience of my life.” Louis knows how cliché that sounds, but it’s true. Harry smiles at him and Louis is endlessly endeared by his dimples and the sparkle in his eyes. Louis gets brave. “And I won you, didn’t I? Without this, I wouldn’t have you.”

“We wouldn’t have each other,” Harry quickly interjects, and he’s looking at Louis so fondly and with so much wonder and Louis really just wants to kiss him. “So, yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“‘Course I am.” 

They grin in the darkness, breathe each other’s air, and Harry’s heart is in his throat when he clambers for Louis’ hand and intertwines their fingers. The younger boy hears Louis’ breath hitch, because they fit _so_ perfectly, and have since the beginning, since Louis first jumped into Harry’s arms and knew he’d found home.

“Do you still want to be friends when this is over?” 

Louis runs his thumb across the back of Harry’s hand, craving intimacy. He’s hopelessly in love with Harry.

“Oh, love, I want you forever.” Louis responds without thinking, barely realising the implications of his words until he’s said them and Harry is looking at him like he hung the moon. “If you’ll have me.”

Louis’ voice seems to ring heavy in the silence of the room. A wave of deep seated panic hits him when Harry doesn’t reply and he thinks he’s _fucked_ if Harry doesn’t feel the same way. But then, Harry surges forward and closes the distance between their parted lips.

 _“Oh,”_ Louis sighs into the kiss, revelling in the taste of Harry on his tongue, and kissing Harry is exactly how he’s imagined it. And he’s imagined it _plenty_. Half of Louis’ brain capacity is constantly consumed by everything that Harry is and has and stands for, and he _wantswantswants_ his milky skin and dark curls and soft curves and to be unequivocally his until the day he dies.

They pause to catch their breath, foreheads touching. “I’ve wanted that for so long,” Harry mutters against Louis’ lips. “Never wanted anyone like I want you, Lou.”

Louis shakes his head in disbelief, because _Harry likes him back_ and this is actually happening for real. Louis steals another kiss, and then another, and another. “When this is over, move in with me. Whatever happens, whether we win or lose, wherever we go next, _please_ say you’ll be by my side for all of it.”

Harry knows that, realistically, he’s too young to think about forever. He’s just a little boy from Holmes Chapel with big dreams. But, Louis feels like his forever. “Yes, yeah,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around Louis’ neck and bringing his lips down to meet his own. “I’ll be yours.”

 _"Mine.”_ God, he could get used to that. “My Harry.”

Harry buries his face in Louis’ neck and smiles so wide it hurts his cheeks. He nuzzles Louis’ jaw softly. “I love you.”

 _Yeah_ , Louis thinks. He could definitely get used to that.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments welcome. I'm on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/tinycurves) and [tumblr](http://meadowlwt.tumblr.com) if you're interested. Thanks for reading.


End file.
